swimming in circles
by glowing neon
Summary: He would coax things from her; snippets of emotions, of who she really was underneath that façade of nonchalance. She would be defensive, refusing to tell him anything. She'd fight back, screaming to leave her alone or to go ask someone who cares (even though he knew she did). But he was fire and she was ice, he somehow managed to make her melt every time. / siriusmarlene for ebaz.


i. **_and so it begins._**

_._

_you and i go hard / at each other like we're going to war / you and i go rough / we keep throwing things and slamming the door_

_._

Her mother called them 'dynamic'.

James said they had 'clear chemistry'.

The word that Lily liked to use for the pair, however, was 'explosive'.

That was probably the most accurate.

.

Her chestnut-coloured hair permanently hung in soft waves around her shoulders, her cheekbones high and well-defined.

Marlene McKinnon was beautiful when she smiled.

Not cute. Not adorable. Not pretty. Beautiful. She had the type of face that you'd take another look at, the face that boys could fall in love with if she graciously bestowed them a small grin.

But she didn't smile for anyone.

Instead, she wore a self-assured smirk on those thin lips. She had a laugh that tended to echo off the stone walls as she sent one jinx after the other at a target in Defence Against the Dark Arts, earning the gaze of every boy and the jealousy of every girl in the room. She held her head high when she walked through the corridors, not caring that everyone liked to point and whisper as she walked.

She didn't think she was better than anyone else.

She_ knew _she was.

After all, she was beautiful, bright, and abso-fucking-lutely brilliant.

But she was once also oh-so-very _alone_.

While at school, she had made a habit of choosing a boy from the Great Hall during dinnertime most days and snogging him until long after curfew, until both his lips and hers were bruised and swollen, until she had left a mark on him that he was not likely to forget in a hurry, until she forgot about her brothers and her mother and her long-gone father and the impending exams. She jumped off the Astronomy Tower repeatedly just because she thought it 'felt like flying'. She played skipping with the Whomping Willow. She liked to build walls to prevent any emotional leakage. She'd spent enough time with her mother to know what heartbreak did to a person, and she may be many things but stupid was not one of them, thank you very much. So she barricaded herself, separating her feelings from her actions, for nothing good ever came out of _emotions._

And then she met _him _and everything changed.

It sounds rather cliché, but he was Sirius and she was Marlene and they had never been ordinary.

He could have had anyone he wanted. His shaggy black hair fell into his eyes, and his natural smile was an elegant smoulder, if such a thing were possible. He played Quidditch (at least, he did until he was banned from the sport - but that is another story), and liked to live for thrills.

Where she built a fortress, he chose not to build at all. He let everything run free, unrestrained and unbound. He told people what he thought of them to their face, no matter how bad such an opinion was. He tended to hex people who hurt his friends, simply because he_ cared_.

At the start, she didn't care about any of this. All she cared about was the fact that he was pretty, and that she needed a distraction.

It was at one of the infamous parties in the Gryffindor Common Room somewhere at the start of her seventh year. They'd both had a drink or two - enough to know what they were doing.

She was dancing. Merlin, she loved to dance.

(In private, she danced to slow music, practicing the steps from the ballet class that her mother couldn't afford to send her back to when she turned ten.)

But when there were other people present, she made sure she moved in_ just _the right way to ensure a set of lips on hers by the end of the evening. Her body moving to the beat of a bass-driven song, she felt a pair of hands settle on her waist. She turned her head around to see Sirius grinning at her. She allowed herself to give him a small smile, to pull him in just a little closer.

They stayed like this for the remainder of the song, and while everyone moved about to get ready for the next, Marlene turned around to face him.

_And now for the kill._

"Hullo, Black."

"It's Sirius."_ Irrelevant, _she thought. "And may I say you look simply spiffing tonight, my dear?"

She resisted the urge to frown. "Let's cut to the chase. Everyone's busy right now; I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we slipped away."

He looked shocked, and she suppressed a grin. "You're rather direct, aren't you?" He smirked, one that reminded her of her own – except less determined, more playful.

"Is that a yes?"

"Indeed it is."

.

Both later admitted to only remembering snippets of the evening's events.

But she didn't think she could forget the first time her body pressed against his (which was in turn pressed against the stone wall). She remembered feeling guilty about the cold he must be feeling, even if it was only for a split-second.

She remembered the shirt that lay discarded somewhere around their feet and that neither was sure if it was hers or his.

He whispered things in her ear – little things, that she hadn't been told before, not by a boy, not like this. A "You're beautiful, y'know that, Marls?" here and a "Sweet Morgana, just kiss me again," there.

He joked, "Merlin, we should make this a regular thing."

She remembered leaving without saying a word, taking (his? hers?) the shirt with her and leaving a protesting (and now shirtless) Sirius behind.

Because she never,_ ever_ let people have seconds.

(And possibly – just possibly – she allowed herself to be swayed ever-so-briefly by the _beautiful_s and the _gorgeous_es and this man that looked like a god and kissed even better.)

.

"Pads?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's your shirt gone?"

"Must've lost it."

"While 'talking' with McKinnon? You've got a wee inconsistency with your story there, mate."

"We snogged for a bit, okay? Nothing more. Oh, don't look at me like that. Just leave it, okay?"

"Woah,_ someone's _menstruating."

"Fuck off, James."

.

She lay awake in her bed, tracing a finger over her lips. He was easily the best kisser she'd ever pinned against a wall, by far – but she'd never gone back for seconds, not with anyone, for fear of being accused of liking someone in particular.

All it took for her to change her mind was one quick glance at the Gryffindor Table.

His smile was happy, but it was clear he'd had little sleep. He was putting a brave face on, obviously.

(She should know, as she was the Queen of Hidden Sobs and Fake Smiles.)

She had hurt him, obviously.

A part of her thought _Good, I've taught him a lesson_._ Maybe next time he won't let his emotions get the better of him._ She liked to see them depressed, because it let her know that she'd done well.

(He would later accuse her of being self-centred and emotionless.)

And it got her thinking – wouldn't it be fun to patch up his heart and then rip it apart once more?

She left the Ravenclaw table and strolled over to the sea of red and gold, tapping him politely on the shoulder with one perfectly manicured finger. Ignoring the strange looks coming from his friends, she leaned down and whispered in his ear something far,_ far _too dirty to repeat here.

She took great delight in watching his eyes widen. She loved watching that; it never failed to make her feel better after a bad day, to know that she could coax that reaction from someone.

But he shook his head, mumbled a quick 'sorry, Marls' before turning back to his stew.

Marlene stood there for a moment, in shock, before turning on her heel and storming off.

.

She realised something later, something she should've noticed. She was a _Ravenclaw, _for Godric's sake.

No-one had called her Marls before.

.

She pulled three boys into a broom closet over the next week to try and recreate just what she'd had while with Sirius.

But it just didn't work.

She became frustrated, and even more irritable than usual. She snapped at anyone who had the misfortune to be partnered with her in class. She got two detentions for calling Slughorn 'a fat bastard' when he asked her to hand in her Potions homework, and one from a Prefect for threatening to slap a first year who'd sat in her favourite spot in the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Said Prefect sent her an owl later that night and asked her what was wrong.

And that was when she realised that – somehow – Sirius sodding Black had managed to get her to show some emotion for once.

Bastard.

.

She sat slumped against one of the walls outside the Gryffindor Common Room. Marlene played with her fingernail, tracing patterns on the tanned skin on her arms.

She_ despised _waiting.

When he finally emerged from the portrait, she pinned him to the wall, her arm up against his neck.

"What the fuck is your game, Black?"

"What the fuck is yours, McKinnon?" he demanded. Taking advantage of her stunned silence, he continued. "I'm up for a meaningless snog any day of the week, but running off when you've had enough is cowardly and just plain rude. You use all the boys like that, don't you? You kiss them, I'll even bet you've shagged a few of them, and then you leave them begging for more. Do you not have one bone of dignity in your body?"

She scoffed. "As if you're Mr. Virgin. I've heard the stories, Black. Always on the scout for another notch on your bedpost, right?"

He looked furious. Lifting his hand as though to hit her, she flinched.

Except he didn't.

Before she realised what was happening, his hand snaked around the back of her neck and pulled her forward.

And then suddenly his lips were on hers again, and Marlene's seemed to be reciprocating of their own accord.

.

The routine they settled into resembled something like this:

They would fight. It could be over anything – over big things, over small things, not even over things at all.

One of them couldn't help themselves and would steal a kiss from the other.

And suddenly the pair would be on the floor or up against the wall or underneath a table (the last one to Madam Pince's disgust), his hands on her hips and his kiss on her lips.

One would realise where they'd ended up, and would push the other away.

Both would spend a few days irritated. He'd hex a few Slytherins, mope around eating everything in his sight, and fly a few hundred times around the Quidditch Pitch on James' broom. She would show her anger with her voice; short, clipped words dripping in sarcasm with the intention to harm.

Subtly, they would both try and get the other's attention using any means possible. They spent a lot of time earning detentions, sneaking out to Hogsmeade. She tended to go too far and swear at a teacher or jump off the Astronomy Tower (again).

That always got his attention.

She told herself she didn't mind the_ Are you stupid, Marlene? _and the _I can't believe how immature you are about all this _and the _Don't you dare get hurt over this _because she was Marlene McKinnon and she couldn't give a fuck about what anyone thought of her.

(Or maybe she just liked it when he stopped ignoring her.)

And then she would kiss him or he would kiss her and the whole cycle would start again.

.

Once – just once – she went too far.

(She always went too far, but this time she went beyond the limits of too far and stepped over the line that she'd been constantly darting around for the last few years.)

After a particularly bad fight, she sat at the Ravenclaw table at dinner, playing with her fork, when a voice started talking to her from her left. Amos Diggory was pretty, for sure (even though she preferred black hair to his blond and grey eyes to his brown, for some reason). He offered to walk her back to the Common Room.

Ten minutes later, Diggory still hadn't shut his mouth.

So she_ made _him, in the only way she really knew how. She kissed him. And because she was Marlene McKinnon, he kissed her back.

But Diggory didn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

Sirius waited outside her Common Room as she left for breakfast the next morning. She was going to protest about being hungry but it was clear that he had more than food on his mind as he stood over her, eyes ablaze, fists clenched.

But he didn't say anything. Not with his voice, anyway.

He kissed her – excuse the cliché – like he'd never done before. It was overwhelming and violent, his teeth tugging on her lip, his fingers digging into her hips.

But she was always one for a challenge, and so grabbed hold of his arms to pull him closer, trying to take control of the kiss.

She must have been_ very _distracted, as after a while, the Head Boy appeared seemingly out of nowhere, clutching a piece of parchment, and told them to get to class already.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at their ruffled clothes and the bruise forming in the shape of a petite hand on Sirius' forearm (where Marlene's had been less than ten minutes prior) but said nothing.

After that, neither dared so much as to even look at another member of the opposite sex.

* * *

ii. **_comfortable is not synonymous with 'pain-less'_**

.

_and i know i've said it a million times, but i'll only stay with you one more night / t__ry to tell you no, but my body keeps on telling you yes / t__ry to tell you stop, but your lipstick got me so out of breath_

.

They sort of… fell into a comfortable relationship.

Neither of them intended it to be so – after all, they both had enjoyed bed-hopping every so often up until that point.

He would try and coax things from her – snippets of emotions, of who she really was underneath that façade of nonchalance.

She would be defensive, refusing to tell him anything. She'd fight back, often screaming at him to_ leave her the fuck alone_ or to _go ask someone who cares_ (even though he knew she did).

But because he was fire, and she was ice, he somehow managed to make her melt every time. She felt _weak _and _pathetic _because he made her expose herself.

She hated him for that.

She hated herself more.

.

Marlene had been all but kicked out of the Ravenclaw Common Room after threatening to set a first year on fire if she didn't pipe down (of course, Marlene hadn't used such kind words to the poor girl), and was now attempting to concentrate on some ridiculous essay for McGonagall.

It was at that moment that none other than Sirius sodding Black walked into the library. It sounded like the start of a joke, to be honest, as a Marauder in a library (aside from Lupin) was unheard of. Why can't i write funny things?)

Subtly peering at him over the top of her textbook, she noticed the way he looked around. _Looking for someone_, _Black?_, she thought.

Of course, fate would have it that he was looking for her.

Pulling up a chair, he sat beside her, watching her hand as she retraced what she'd written so far – the letters of her name.

"You know, I've never tried handing in an essay with just my name on it. Is that the way all Ravenclaws get their marks?" He smiled his usual cocky grin, and she resisted the urge to slap it off his face, settling for using her quill to (violently) etch her initials into the wooden table.

"No, actually. And if you don't mind, I have an essay to write." She scowled, hoping that would get him to move.

He quickly reached out and grabbed the parchment, holding it out of her grasp. Marlene scrambled to reach it, but he was too quick and stuffed it into his pants, grinning.

"Wanna help a man out, McKinnon?" He shot her a wink, and her lip curled in disgust.

"Has anyone ever told you that you've got about as much charm as a dead slug?" she asked, a barely-hidden sneer in her voice.

He held his hands up in a 'don't shoot!' gesture. "That's not what my girlfriend thinks."

She tried very hard to hide the shock she was feeling. Since when did Sirius have a girlfriend? He'd neglected to mention it at any of their near-daily rendez-vous. Keeping a steady tone, she raised an eyebrow. "What? Someone finally manage to put up with you for more than a quick snog?"

He looked at her pointedly. "Indeed you have."

"… You mean_ me?_" she said incredulously. "Dream on."

He simply cocked a brow. "I'm not kidding, Marlene."

She froze.

And then, she exploded.

"Look. I don't care!" Her raised voice caused a few studying students to glare at her, but she ignored them. "I don't care about us. There isn't even an 'us' to speak of. You're just a really good snog, okay?"

At this point, Madam Pince, the librarian in her early forties, was making her way over to them, her fury evident. Marlene just kept on going. "I don't give a flying fuck about what you may or may not have deluded yourself into believing, okay? I've gotten this far without getting hurt. I'm not going to break that streak now,_ darling,_" she said, the last word dripping with sarcasm.

Sirius mumbled something, but she didn't quite hear it because Madam Pince had yelled "Detention! Both of you! No fighting in the library, you should both know better. Twenty points from your houses, each."

And Marlene was running, leaving her books behind because who _fucking cares_, running through the Common Room, running to her empty dormitory where she could sit and plan some revenge.

Except, she didn't feel like plotting the murder of everyone Sirius had ever cared about.

Somehow, she'd started crying. The tears showed no sign of relenting as they fell, one after the other. Marlene didn't wipe them away, though; she sat, frozen in shock for the second time that afternoon.

He'd done it again. He had made her _feel. _She was curious, in amongst all the anger and guilt, as to how he'd done so. Many had tried, after all, but she'd never once let her guard down. Even now, it wasn't Marlene deciding to let him in – Sirius was forcing his way through the mask she put on in aid of self-preservation.

She heard a sharp rap on the window. Looking up, she saw a small, tawny owl hovering just outside the glass, a letter attached to its foot. Marlene let it inside, and the owl dropped the piece of parchment into her hand. She scowled as when she saw the very familiar handwriting of the person she'd really rather not hear from right now.

_McKinnon,_

_See? We _can _have a civil conversation without hurting each other._

_Well, at least it was civil until I said what everyone is thinking. What the fuck? We kiss, we hold. Why wouldn't we be in a relationship? What is wrong with you? I thought _I _was a commitment phobe, but you've got more of a problem than even _I _have._

_I hope you know Pince'll hate my guts forever now. I'll never be able to show my face in the library again._

_Sirius._

_P.S – be careful of Tasman. He's new (and not mine)._

.

_Black,_

_Back off._

_I'm pretty sure she's hated you four for a _very _long time now. No love lost there._

_McKinnon._

_P.S. – What sort of ridiculous name is Tasman?_

.

_Marlene,_

_No need to be so bitter, _sweetheart.

_You sound like you've got some steam to blow. Meet me up the Astronomy Tower in fifteen?_

_Sirius._

_P.S. – It's exotic. Why not?_

.

_Black,_

_Don't think I've changed my mind – but I'll be there._

_Marlene._

_._

"Sorry I took so long. Filch was patrolling," she lied. Marlene had taken the long route from her Common Room to the Tower, lingering in the corridors as long as she could. It was a small act of defiance; something that she hoped would remind him that she was her own person and that he did not have any control over her.

Sirius just raised his eyebrows, taking a deep drag of the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. He silently held out the packet, offering her one. She took it, playing with the small object between her fingers.

"You're so cold, Marls," he finally said.

"Probably because we're in a stone castle in the middle of the night without proper heating."

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, a habit probably picked up from spending so much time with Potter. "You know what I mean. We've been snogging and what have you for months now. Neither of us are fooling around with anyone else and-"

She cuts him off, her tone angry. "That still gives you no right to _claim _me as your girlfriend. I'm not a belonging, Black!"

He frowns. "I didn't say you were. But that's the thing about a_ relationship_, Marlene – you _do _belong to me. And I, I belong to you."

She studied him for a moment, trying to work out if he was serious.

_Would it really be so bad,_ she thinks,_ to try this? Just once?_

After all - logically, you can never know if something will work if you don't try it. _Just once_. And, really, what did she have to lose?

(Besides her reputation and her dignity and maybe – just maybe – her heart.)

So she leaned in and kissed him. They made sure to stay quiet, as Mrs. Norris could be patrolling the corridors.

As the kisses grew heated, he stopped, raising his eyebrows, silently asking for permission. She paused for a moment before nodding and he grinned, pulling back to take off her skirt.

Their cigarettes lay discarded to one side, his igniting hers, the two burning in unison. (um gorgeous much?)

.

The next morning, as she sat in Charms, she realised just how huge a commitment she'd just made. She began to panic, air suddenly becoming so much harder to breathe.

But, from the other side of the room, Sirius managed to catch her eye. Looking worried, he mouthed, _are you alright? _He was genuinely worried about her, she realised.

And somehow – heaven only knows why – but she calmed down. _I am now, _she mouthed back, hint of a smile on her face.

(Let's just add _calming a tiger _to the list of impossible things Sirius Black has done, shall we?)

.

She liked to throw things at him when she was pissed. He just thanked his lucky stars that she has an awful aim.

"I can't believe you're a fucking Animagus, Sirius. That's reckless enough, but you didn't tell me!"

_Smash._

"You're one to talk about reckless, _sweetheart. _Anyway, what was I supposed to say? 'Hey, Marls, how's your day been? Oh, and I'm an illegal Animagus who likes to run around with a werewolf once a month.' You would've cursed me."

"I'll curse you now, you bastard!"

_Smash._

"You wouldn't really do that, darling."

"Oh really? And why not?"

_Smash._

"The sex is too good."

"But you're so cocky that it almost ruins it!"

_Smash._

"… Almost?"

A pause.

"Just kiss me already."

"You don't have to ask twice, Ma'am."

.

Sometime in February, he wasn't at breakfast.

This may seem like a small thing, but Marlene could count the number of times he'd missed an opportunity to eat with the fingers on her left hand. Not to mention the fact that Sirius was always the first out of bed in the morning, much to the dismay of the other boys in his dormitory, who most certainly were not early risers.

(She wasn't entirely sure why or how she knew this, and she didn't want to.)

And yet – for some reason – he was absent.

Marlene asked his friends about it, who gave each other stricken looks, before telling her that he'd gotten a letter late last night and he'd just left. He'd been missing since then.

She simply raised an eyebrow because_ these are the Marauders, silly, they will_ always _know where each other are _and Pettigrew caved, telling her that he'd been moping about in the Astronomy Tower for hours.

Potter panicked when he saw her getting up to leave. "No, you can't!" he said, trying to pull her back to the table, but he only grabbed at air as she dodged past him.

"Pete! Moony! Do something!"

The latter simply put his head in his hands, knowing full well from talking to Sirius that when Marlene decided to do something, no-one could talk her out of it.

.

When she found him, half an hour later, she was rather surprised by what she saw.

Whatever had happened to force him up here, he wasn't showing anything. Not a speck of emotion, not the hint of sadness. His face was blank, his voice flat. He didn't acknowledge her presence, either, until Marlene had sat down next to him.

"Who sent you?"

She paused for a moment. "No-one sent me, Sirius. I came of my own accord to see how you were doing."

"Bullshit," he scoffed.

"Is that really so hard to believe?" She leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead.

When she pulled back, he was staring at her incredulously. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm not the one who should be answering that question. What's wrong?"

It was his turn to pause. He reached into his pocket and handed her a perfectly-folded piece of parchment. Taking it from him, Marlene opened it, biting her lip as she read the cursive writing.

_We are awfully sorry to have to inform you that your uncle, Alphard Winston Black, passed away in his sleep three nights ago._

Oh, shit.

This can't be happening.

He'd mentioned his uncle before – Alphard had been the relative who'd supported Sirius leaving his family. Sirius had been very close to him, and had trusted him more than he'd trusted any other Black (after he'd learned Regulus was involved in the Dark Arts).

And then he let out a sob, cutting off her thoughts.

She tentatively wrapped an arm around his middle, pulling him towards her. He lay beside her, head in her lap, trying very hard to stop crying, her hands brushing his hair from his face.

She didn't know what to say – it had been a long time since she'd had to comfort someone, let alone _wanted _to.

So she talked.

She talked of her parents, about how her father left them for some skinny young thing he'd met at a bar, about her grandparents' deaths back in fourth year, about her eldest brother's fiancée killed by You-Know-Who a year earlier.

When she stopped, she realised he'd stopped crying a long time ago.

_._

Spring came and left, and before long, Sirius and Marlene are standing at the platform at Hogsmeade, ready to leave Hogwarts for the last time.

"Are you ready?" His hand reached for hers.

"As I'll ever be. You?" Her fingers intertwined with his.

"I think. I got my acceptance letter into the Auror Training Program this morning, did I tell you that?"

"… You applied to be an Auror?"

He frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

"It's dangerous."

"Of course it is. You're fighting Dark wizards half the time, and training the other half," he said, rolling his eyes. "What's wrong with it?"

She hesitated, before whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "You might go to a mission one day and not come back. That scares me."

He was speechless.

And because she was Marlene McKinnon, she took advantage of that fact and kissed him.

* * *

iii. **_before the fall comes hope_**

**_._**

_baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you / a__nd I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go / g__ot you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo_

.

After Hogwarts, they get a flat.

She hates the attachment, the proximity, everything their moving in together symbolises.

But it's convenient and cheap and she gets to watch Sirius attempt to cook before ordering Chinese instead.

(She thinks that maybe – just maybe – she'd be willing to spend the rest of her life with this one.)

.

One day, she sees her dad on the street, a brunette on his arm. He recognises her, and tries to initiate a conversation. She tells him to bugger off.

And so she dyes her hair a dirty blonde, in the vain hope that if they do meet again, she won't have to talk to him.

Sirius says he's always had a thing for blondes and she grins sheepishly.

.

Dumbledore approaches Sirius first, and (of course) he says yes, he would love to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

On the other hand, Marlene is hesitant. It isn't that she doesn't know it's the right thing to do; it's that she values her life very much. And more importantly, Sirius'.

When she tells him that she hasn't made a decision, he stares at her, incredulous. "How can you not fight?" he asked.

"How can I? It's dangero-"

He sighs, his tone of voice growing agitated. "Don't give me this bullshit about _dangerous, _Marlene. What's the real problem?"

She mumbles something, and he raises an eyebrow, gesturing for her to speak louder.

"I don't want to lose you."

He gives her a sad smile. "You know that as long as I'm alive, I'm going to be a target? I'm the Black that wasn't, the Black that became friends with blood traitors and Muggleborns. So, really, I'm fighting to stay alive."

"I'll do it if it keeps you safe, you know that, right?" She lays her hands on his chest, and nestles her face in the crook of his neck.

He grins into her newly-blonde hair. "It only makes sense; after all, I _am _doing this for you."

"Clearly you've got a death wish."

"And yet here you are."

.

She sits outside the Order's safe house, rolling up a cigarette, a habit she had picked up from Sirius months ago. They'd just heard that the Prewett twins, Fabian and Gideon, had been murdered by Death Eaters at home in Surrey.

All she can think about is _this is what happens when you're in the Order._

He finds her before long, and wraps an arm around her. "You're worried," he says, a statement more than a question.

"What if you're next?" she asks, leaning into him.

There is a terse silence before he answers. "I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about losing you, either. I mean, we're both going to die eventually." Another pause. "I suppose what we should do is make the most of whatever time we have left." His arms still firmly around her, they Disapparated back home to their little flat.

Before long they're kissing, trying to commit each other to memory. Someone's crying, or maybe it's both of them? It doesn't matter, because they are Sirius&Marlene, and neither can tell where one of them starts and the other one ends.

They don't fuck this time. It's slow, and passionate.

(Which is a fairly difficult thing to achieve when you're copulating against a door frame.)

**_._**

"You can't do this, Padfoot."

"Why the fuck not?"

"She won't take it well, that's all I'm saying."

"James. She loves me. Don't you trust me?"

"With women? Shit no."

"Sod off, Prongs. This is real. I'm sure of it."

"If you're sure. I'll be here to patch you up after she attacks."

"Wanker."

"Git."

"Isn't that what Lily calls you? I'm honoured."

"Just go get it over with, you big softie."

.

He proposes.

She breaks his nose.

.

Early the next morning, while he is still asleep, she creeps into their room and steals the ring sitting on the bedside table. She plays with it while lying on the living room floor.

Deciding it'd be safer to wait until he'd calmed down about his nose before facing him personally, she scrabbles around for parchment and a quill. Slipping the ring onto her finger, she leaves him a note on the counter.

_Black._

_Gone to Mum's house to break the news. Should be back later this evening._

_Sorry about the nose. I'm sure the swelling will go down soon._

She hesitates before writing the next sentence, a smile creeping onto her face.

_I love you._

_- M.M_

* * *

_iv. once more alone, my wayward son_

_._

_yeah, baby, give me one more night / g__ive me _one_ more night_

**_._**

_.._

When he woke up, just after midday, he saw the lack of ring on the bedside table and grinned.

Sirius hopped out of bed, shoved on a shirt, and ran through to the living room. He stuck his head in the fireplace, hoping to see James and Lily and to tell them the happy news. When he does see them, though, they don't look particularly happy to see him. Or, in fact, happy at all.

"Pads, mate, how are you?"

He paused. "I know that tone of voice, James. Who died?"

Lily jumped up quickly and strode briskly out of the room, mumbling something about 'not fair'. Her fiancé gave Sirius a grim expression.

"Marlene."

_No._

No.

**No.**

"You're lying." Sirius' tone was flat, emotionless.

James looked on the verge of tears, giving his best friend a sad smile. "I wish it were the case. The McKinnons' housewas attacked this morning. Albus was going to visit you later, once he'd dealt with some other things."

Sirius just sat there, frozen with shock at this news.

"I… I'm so sorry," James said, running a hand through his hair. "The whole family's gone, an-"

He cut James off. "She said yes."

"To…? Oh. _Oh."_ James' eyes widened in shock. "Fuck, Padfoot, no-one deserves that. 'Specially not you and Marlene."

Sirius just nodded in farewell, pulled his head out the fire and sat on the sofa. Feeling something beneath him, he pulled out a familiar red women's t-shirt, crumpled from being sat on. He held it close like a security blanket.

When he shut his eyes, he could pretend that the shirt was still on its owner, who was still very much alive and telling him off for holding her so tightly.

That was when he started to cry.

.

The nightguard, MacNair, stops outside his cell and sneers at him. "Happy New Year, Black. Make a wish."

Sirius ignores him – it's no good to let yourself hope here in Azkaban. The one thing he _had _been wishing for, for years, still hadn't come true. Why let yourself believe, and have it sink in _again _that you've got no way out of this situation?

He shuts his eyes anyway, and makes a wish.

Which, incidentally, happens to be the same thing he's been wishing for ever since he was thrown into this hellhole.

_Let me do it all again. Let me laugh along with Remus and Lily as Prongs makes a funny face after she teases him. Let me tell Marlene just once more that I love her._

_Take me back to the start._


End file.
